Being a Prince of Hell was decidedly more exciting than being a Prince of Heaven was, let's get that out of the way.
Nobody in Hell is fond of responsibilities to begin with.
That's kind of why this whole arrangement is a thing.
But even having someone else to deal with the ordeal of remembering schedules (ugh), there are still... expectations.
Sprawled on his gaudy throne (a gaudy construction to begin with, made only gaudier by the fake skulls and fairy-lights and tacky crap he'd immediately stuck all over it), Greed of Avarice frowns poutily at the ceiling.
There's a function tonight, and normally Greed is all about functions, but this one has an Important Person at it and therefore everyone has to pretend to be serious and responsible for the night. Which is going to fucking suck.
"How about this: you, me, my bike, a cooler of the most expensive ass-kicking vodka in the entire nine circles, and a night on the town pickin' up hookers."
These words leave his lips despite-- in fact BECAUSE OF-- knowing that his resident captured angel doesn't drink, fuck, or play hooky. Ever.
Harmony was, in his own opinion (though he would never voice it because Pride was a DEMON thing) the most well-put-together thing in all of Greed's disgusting den. He stood out like a sore thumb in his white suit with the gold trim. Harmony stood at attention next to the regretsy throne with his hands clasped at the small of his back and his shackled wings drawn in tight to his back. He stared dead ahead at dart board covered in magazine clippings with half-lidded eyes that were the same gold as the halo that hovered around his neck.
He drew in a deep breath and, like one of those iphone soundboards, repeated the same thing he always said when Greed suggested they do something off the beaten path.
"The assembly is at moon-high, my Lord, and your attendance is required as dictated by the crown." And there was a pause. "Your crown to be exact."
If Greed weren't a Prince, he could be living it up in the filthy alleys of Hell with every other two-bit demon tonight. Harmony took a quiet pleasure in knowing that for once, Greed was going to have to do something he didn't want to do and unlike him, Harmony, possibly one of the most straight-laced soldiers Heaven had to offer, was going to piss and moan about it like a BIG FAT BABY.
He pointedly decided to ignore the fact that if maybe he had pissed and moaned a little instead of following everything to the book, maybe he wouldn't have become a prisoner of war.
Greed shoots his butler a reproachful look-- a very dramatic one. The one with the bottom lip poking out a little.
He knows Harmony hates it.
Then he pulls the crown off his head and runs it around his fingers thoughtfully.
"You know, the Vicar will be there. His crown is significantly bigger than this one. And his sin isn't even greed, you know. It's sloth. It's a fucking crime that it should be that big."
Harmony cast his eyes aside to catch a short glimpse of his boss and discovered the Face. It took all his willpower not to groan and roll his eyes right out of his head.
He hadn't been asked a question or given a command so he didn't have to say anything to that.
Maybe, if he stayed extra quiet, Greed would think he was dead.
While this was not Harmony's first rodeo when it came to listening to Greed wallow and feel sorry for himself on account of not having some sparkly something, it was the first time he himself had ever been dragged into it.
At first, Harmony puffed out a passive-aggressive sigh, almost not hearing the command. He was all ready to return to his mild daydreams of being free when it hit him. He had been given a command. And it wasn't to bring him his hellphone or a drink. The feathers on Harmony's shoulders prickled and he straightened up, turning his whole head to look down at Greed.
Giving Greed that reaction only makes his grin grow.
He's gone back to lounging on the throne, swinging one leg casually as though he just suggested a game of tiddlywinks and not what was technically an act of civil war.
Surely this was a joke. Greed was a jokey guy! This couldn't be a real command.
The thing about this arrangement was, if it was a real command, Harmony could not refuse it. There was no "follow all commands except for the stupid ones" clause. Otherwise, Harmony wouldn't have gotten him that bubble bath with the flecks of real gold in it from the human world. There was honor in not quailing in front of the commands of the damned ones. Though they might kick and spit upon him and his kind, he would do their bidding without a flinch. They would not affect a soldier of Heaven!
But he'd flinched.
Harmony felt his heart beating in his throat. If he so much as approached that demon out of turn, he'd be nothing but a smear on the already red carpet! He had to think! And fast!
"But yours is...it's got such a--a better design, sir!"
Oh, why couldn't he have been paired with a demon of Pride or something and just be their social media guy. He'd much rather edit Instagram pics all day than this!
Harmony turned to finally face his master, one hand raised in a placating manner. "Are you sure you want me to do it? Thievery isn't really my strong suit. I'm afraid you wouldn't get the crown at all and would, in fact, be out one angel by the end of the night. I can't very well press your clothing if I'm nothing but a stain on the carpet. Please be reasonable, sir!"
Harmony could not stop himself. His mouth just...hung open as Greed chortled and joked about his coming doom. This was happening. This was how he died--not on the battlefield protecting the glory of Heaven and the peace of Man, but down here in Hell in a dimly lit room that smelled like vodka and cigarettes. His wings started to sag.
But then Greed made his final comment and it startled Harmony out of his misery. His sorrow was quickly replaced with rage at being spoken of as though he were just a thing. A toy! The angel's wings rattled slightly against their bonds. He drew in a deep breath through his nose and quickly wheeled around on his heel to stare dead ahead again.
The hands on the bedazzled yard sale clock depicting High School Musical star Zac Efron ticked ever closer to the event.
Greed took some amount of pride in being a slob, but that didn't mean he didn't also enjoy dressing up.
What ELSE was he supposed to do with his horde of tacky outfits?
As always, Harmony had been subjected to at least forty-five minutes of Greed strutting out in various states of dress and gaudiness and looking to him expectantly with that shit-eating grin, knowing that the angel would hate every single one of them.
But the hour has arrived, and the prince had finally settled on a sequinned maroon overcoat and-- what else-- hot magenta tightpants.
They clashed terribly.
But he wasn't worried about being embarrassed. This was his whole thing.
And any dread he'd had about the event had dissipated in favor of excitement at his brilliant scheme.
So he struts into the (far more impressive than his own) manor with his angel by his side, tail perky and grin wide.
Meanwhile, Harmony looked posativly drab in the low light. He still wore his white suit. The most dressed up he got was changing out his tie. He shifted a wing as far as he could to block his vision so that he wouldn't have to look at the atrocity that was Greed's outfit.
He hoped that maybe the party would distract Greed from his quest for the crown but deep down in his heart he knew that once his boss had his mind on something, it rarely strayed until he got it.
Ugh, demons. The lack of organization down in the pit was enough to make a man molt. Which Harmony had actually started doing. He was quick to scoop the feathers up when he saw them, least Greed notice and find something else to yank his chian about.
Harmony dared to stray a few steps to the side in hopes of leading his master in the direction they were meant to go.
"Why can't you just be a normal demon and disembowel me for an audience?"
Harmony barely kept himself from insisting that Greed could get a new angel, but he didn't want to banter with him. He didn't want to give him that satisfaction. He had to think...like a demon.
The angel's eyes wandered the clusters of gossiping sins. Some of them were squabbling. Perhaps if Greed were close enough to the Sloth Prince and caused a scene, Harmony could offer to just hold the crown for him when the tornado headed his way.
There, a very polite theft! The Upstairs would be proud.
But there was a good chance it was hard to cause a scene in hell. Harmony was still fairly new to the neighborhood.
"There he is." Harmony twitched a bound wing in the direction of the dais upon which the man of the hour lounged.
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Nobody in Hell is fond of responsibilities to begin with.
That's kind of why this whole arrangement is a thing.
But even having someone else to deal with the ordeal of remembering schedules (ugh), there are still... expectations.
Sprawled on his gaudy throne (a gaudy construction to begin with, made only gaudier by the fake skulls and fairy-lights and tacky crap he'd immediately stuck all over it), Greed of Avarice frowns poutily at the ceiling.
There's a function tonight, and normally Greed is all about functions, but this one has an Important Person at it and therefore everyone has to pretend to be serious and responsible for the night. Which is going to fucking suck.
"How about this: you, me, my bike, a cooler of the most expensive ass-kicking vodka in the entire nine circles, and a night on the town pickin' up hookers."
These words leave his lips despite-- in fact BECAUSE OF-- knowing that his resident captured angel doesn't drink, fuck, or play hooky. Ever.
no subject
He drew in a deep breath and, like one of those iphone soundboards, repeated the same thing he always said when Greed suggested they do something off the beaten path.
"The assembly is at moon-high, my Lord, and your attendance is required as dictated by the crown." And there was a pause. "Your crown to be exact."
If Greed weren't a Prince, he could be living it up in the filthy alleys of Hell with every other two-bit demon tonight. Harmony took a quiet pleasure in knowing that for once, Greed was going to have to do something he didn't want to do and unlike him, Harmony, possibly one of the most straight-laced soldiers Heaven had to offer, was going to piss and moan about it like a BIG FAT BABY.
He pointedly decided to ignore the fact that if maybe he had pissed and moaned a little instead of following everything to the book, maybe he wouldn't have become a prisoner of war.
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He knows Harmony hates it.
Then he pulls the crown off his head and runs it around his fingers thoughtfully.
"You know, the Vicar will be there. His crown is significantly bigger than this one. And his sin isn't even greed, you know. It's sloth. It's a fucking crime that it should be that big."
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He hadn't been asked a question or given a command so he didn't have to say anything to that.
Maybe, if he stayed extra quiet, Greed would think he was dead.
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Ignoring Greed only makes him worse.
He's clearly got something brewing in his spiky little head as he taps on his chin, seemingly unperturbed by the lack of response.
Then he straightens up, sparkling grin reappearing.
"I've got it. Tonight, you... are gonna steal that crown. For me."
8)
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At first, Harmony puffed out a passive-aggressive sigh, almost not hearing the command. He was all ready to return to his mild daydreams of being free when it hit him. He had been given a command. And it wasn't to bring him his hellphone or a drink. The feathers on Harmony's shoulders prickled and he straightened up, turning his whole head to look down at Greed.
"Excuse me?"
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He's gone back to lounging on the throne, swinging one leg casually as though he just suggested a game of tiddlywinks and not what was technically an act of civil war.
"You're gonna get me that crown."
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Surely this was a joke. Greed was a jokey guy! This couldn't be a real command.
The thing about this arrangement was, if it was a real command, Harmony could not refuse it. There was no "follow all commands except for the stupid ones" clause. Otherwise, Harmony wouldn't have gotten him that bubble bath with the flecks of real gold in it from the human world. There was honor in not quailing in front of the commands of the damned ones. Though they might kick and spit upon him and his kind, he would do their bidding without a flinch. They would not affect a soldier of Heaven!
But he'd flinched.
Harmony felt his heart beating in his throat. If he so much as approached that demon out of turn, he'd be nothing but a smear on the already red carpet! He had to think! And fast!
"But yours is...it's got such a--a better design, sir!"
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His grin grew almost like someone had just selected it and enlarged it in Photoshop.
"Well, yeah. But I want them both. I'm Greed."
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Harmony turned to finally face his master, one hand raised in a placating manner. "Are you sure you want me to do it? Thievery isn't really my strong suit. I'm afraid you wouldn't get the crown at all and would, in fact, be out one angel by the end of the night. I can't very well press your clothing if I'm nothing but a stain on the carpet. Please be reasonable, sir!"
There, that was nice and logical.
1/2
"Oh, don't be such a drama queen! If things look like they're gonna go that way, of course I'll step in. I'm not a monster. ... Oh wait. I am!"
More laughter.
2/2
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But then Greed made his final comment and it startled Harmony out of his misery. His sorrow was quickly replaced with rage at being spoken of as though he were just a thing. A toy! The angel's wings rattled slightly against their bonds. He drew in a deep breath through his nose and quickly wheeled around on his heel to stare dead ahead again.
The hands on the bedazzled yard sale clock depicting High School Musical star Zac Efron ticked ever closer to the event.
"As you wish, sir."
SEVERAL HOURS LATER...
What ELSE was he supposed to do with his horde of tacky outfits?
As always, Harmony had been subjected to at least forty-five minutes of Greed strutting out in various states of dress and gaudiness and looking to him expectantly with that shit-eating grin, knowing that the angel would hate every single one of them.
But the hour has arrived, and the prince had finally settled on a sequinned maroon overcoat and-- what else-- hot magenta tightpants.
They clashed terribly.
But he wasn't worried about being embarrassed. This was his whole thing.
And any dread he'd had about the event had dissipated in favor of excitement at his brilliant scheme.
So he struts into the (far more impressive than his own) manor with his angel by his side, tail perky and grin wide.
This is gonna be so good. 8)
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He hoped that maybe the party would distract Greed from his quest for the crown but deep down in his heart he knew that once his boss had his mind on something, it rarely strayed until he got it.
"We're expected in the conference room..."
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The worst part was that no matter how flippant Greed sounded about it, Harmony would know that this was literally true.
Which meant that there was plenty of time to scope out the venue.
"Whaddya say we do a little... strategizing?"
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Harmony dared to stray a few steps to the side in hopes of leading his master in the direction they were meant to go.
"Why can't you just be a normal demon and disembowel me for an audience?"
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A faintly-insulted tone had entered his voice, but at least he wasn't doing the pouty lip.
"A damn waste is what that would be."
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Harmony barely kept himself from insisting that Greed could get a new angel, but he didn't want to banter with him. He didn't want to give him that satisfaction. He had to think...like a demon.
The angel's eyes wandered the clusters of gossiping sins. Some of them were squabbling. Perhaps if Greed were close enough to the Sloth Prince and caused a scene, Harmony could offer to just hold the crown for him when the tornado headed his way.
There, a very polite theft! The Upstairs would be proud.
But there was a good chance it was hard to cause a scene in hell. Harmony was still fairly new to the neighborhood.
"There he is." Harmony twitched a bound wing in the direction of the dais upon which the man of the hour lounged.